


Discontinuity

by cryptologicalMystic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Artistic License - Physics, Gen, The Latter Tag is the Cause of the Former, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6676468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptologicalMystic/pseuds/cryptologicalMystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A depowered cherub and a victorious troll stand at the edge of an epilogue. Though it has been only seven objective years since the creation of their reality, it is today that said reality will be destroyed.</p><p>> Thief, Lord: Fondly (?) regard cessation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discontinuity

The fabric of paradox space is in tatters a few dozen yards away; great swathes of existence have been torn inward, sucked towards the inexorable pull of a singularity with the mass of two universes.

The Green Sun, as heavy as it was, managed to have next to no gravitational effect. The black hole now in its position seems to be working twice as hard, in an attempt to make up for its predecessor’s negligence.

There is very little that can withstand such crushing weight. Only two of those who had been at the edge of the catastrophic sphere have managed to avoid being drawn in; and not only were both of them still alive at the time, but they were also both God Tier.

Neither the cherub nor the troll will remain alive for long. The Breach is consuming everything, even at the relatively slow rate of an inch per minute, and the only possible escape - a house-shaped juju, a hole not just in existence but in existence's narrative - lies dead and silent, having already served its purpose.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Vriska Serket asks, viewing the warped maelstrom. “You know, I could almost see why you’d want to destroy everything, if the destruction all looked like this.”

Caliborn - for he isn’t Lord English anymore; all he currently is, is a child with too-big suspenders and 8-balls where his eyes should be - isn’t sure what she’s talking about. The 8-balls are just 8-balls, now; they still retain some functionality as eyes, but eyesight only on the level of a nonplayer. All the light coming from in front of him, closer to the black hole, is redshifted to the point of invisibility; everything behind him has been blueshifted into various hues of ‘gamma ray’, which would also be invisible if he weren’t a cherub. He tells Vriska as much, though not in as many words.

Vriska snorts and calls him a liar. “You’re a player, same as me! Sgrub takes care of incomprehensible vistas. Besiiiiiiiides, if the gravitational pull were really that strong, we wouldn’t’ve been able to avoid getting sucked in ourselves, God Tier or no God Tier!”

“Bullshit,” Caliborn replies in something of a self-contradiction, just to prove a point.

The two stand in silence for a time.

“From the evidence,” the Lord of Time says, “it is obvious. That we are in a doomed timeline. There are loops that. Should have been closed. I won’t be able to close them now.”

The Thief of Light laughs, long and loud. By the end of her bout of hysterics, Caliborn has begun hoping she’ll choke; he is sorely disappointed when she fails to do so. He contemplates breaking her neck himself, but decides against it when he remembers that he hasn’t fought without clockwork majyyks at his disposal in... several trillion years, give or take. It’s been long enough that he can’t remember the exact interval.

“Don’t you see?” she ridicules (no, Caliborn cannot in fact, see, thank you very much, except without the thanking). She throws a hand towards the radio-wave panorama behind him.

“The Green Sun has reached the end of its lifespan,” Vriska says. “Paradox space itself is ceasing to be. The concept of a doomed timeline doesn’t mean anything anymore, not when the entirety of reality has reached its denouement.” She grins widely. “You were the villain of the tale, the threat that necessitated the destruction of the multiverse. I was the heroine, who made the ultimate sacrifice to liberate her friends. And my friends themselves? They don’t matter anymore, and I mean that literally. They’ve passed out of this pointless world, and moved on to the next. They’re free now, home free - and we aren’t, because neither of us could ever accept a lack of purpose.”

Caliborn flounders for a moment. “That doesn’t make. Any sense at all.”

Impossibly, the spider-troll’s grin becomes even more maniacal, and for precisely zero point four one three seconds the cherub swears that he sees, flashing in her eyes, the memory of a meeting with someone or something more than five times as old as this mere omniverse.

“If you wanted a story that made sense, you shouldn’t have killed the author.”

The Breach takes them both before Caliborn can respond.


End file.
